Band of Gold
by paulmcuk
Summary: Dana is about to get married. He's handsome, rich, generous, strong and sensitive. What on earth does she see in him? And can Casey stop her from making the biggest mistake of HIS life?


NATALIE'S APARTMENT - NEW YORK CITY

Natalie looked at her watch. "Three, two, one...twenty four hours to go."

"Is that all?" said Dana.

"How are you feeling?"

"Scared as hell."

Natalie smiled. "That's natural enough on the eve of your wedding day."

"Don't say that."

"Say what?"

"Wedding. It has such a ring of finality about it."

"It is final" said Natalie. "Well theoretically. Hey, you better not be having second thoughts. You couldn't do that to me."

"To YOU?"

"Yes. Have you any idea how much I spent on that new dress? Don't you dare deprive me of the chance to wear it."

"Well then I guess I'd better go through with it" said Dana, smiling.

"I'll never forgive you otherwise." Natalie looked at her friend. "Seriously though. You are happy aren't you?"

"Of course I'm happy. Phil is everything I ever dreamed about."

"Hmmm. Not quite everything I think."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning his name isn't Casey."

Dana laughed. "Are you still hanging onto that dream of yours? Even now?"

"No, I woke up the day you got engaged. But I still say I was right. You would have made a great couple."

"Phil and I make a great couple."

"You do. I never said you didn't."

"But you implied, despite all the evidence to the contrary, that we are not quite as great a couple as you think Casey and I would have made. What you have to get into that hopelessly romantic little head of yours is that Casey and I never were, never will be and never could be. It was not fated, it was not pre-destined. In short, give it up Natalie."

Natalie just smiled. "Dana, you seem a little fixated on the subject of Casey. I find that disturbing on the night before your wedding."

Dana threw her hands up in the air. "Why did I decide to spend the night at your place?"

"For emotional support" said Natalie.

"Exactly. So where is it?"

Natalie moved over to Dana and gave her a hug. "There" she said. "Is that better?"

"You haven't had much practice at this have you Natalie?"

"Not much, no. But I'm learning fast."

Dana laughed. "You're doing ok." She became reflective. "And you're right, I have been thinking about Casey."

"I knew it."

"Do you think he's ok?"

"I'm sure he is."

"I never expected him to just shoot off like that."

"Nobody did."

"I mean. I love Phil; nothing's going to change that. But, I just wish I knew where Casey was."

"And I wish I could tell you. But nobody knows, not even Dan."

"Are you sure? Maybe he knows but he's hiding it?"

"Dan is incapable of hiding anything from me."

Dana held up her hands. "Oh right, sorry. I forgot about your persuasive powers where Dan is concerned."

"Apology accepted. Just don't doubt me again."

"I won't." She sat back and sighed. "Why did he do it Natalie?"

Natalie raised her eyebrows. "Do you really need me to answer that?"

"No, I guess not. It must be the wedding. But he's known for months, he seemed ok with it."

"It's one thing when it's a distant prospect" said Natalie. "But quite another when it's just around the corner."

"I guess" said Dana. She looked at her friend. "Do you suppose he'll turn up for the wedding?"

1000 MILES AWAY - SOMEWHERE IN ALABAMA

Casey gave his car a hefty kick. It did no good, but it made him feel better so he did it again. He looked both ways down the road. There was nothing to be seen - except more road. He reached inside the car for his road atlas and examined it. The nearest town was Finian's Creek three miles up ahead - but it was barely an inkspot on the map. Sighing he put away the atlas and closed the door. Then he walked to the back of the car - and started to push.

"Car trouble?" shouted the voice.

Casey looked up and saw an old man with a white beard sitting on the porch of the one pump gas station. He was the spitting image of Grandpa Duke. "You could say that" he replied.

"I knew it as soon as I saw you. I said to myself, Zeke, that boy over there has car trouble."

"What gave it away?" said Casey and the man chuckled. "Could you tell me how much further is it to Finian's Creek?" asked Casey.

Zeke looked at the road in front of Casey's car. "About ten feet I reckon."

Casey looked around. He could see no other buildings. "THIS is Finian's Creek?"

"Sure is" said Zeke. "Unless you're looking for the creek itself, which is over yonder" he added, indicating with a stick.

"No, I was looking for the town."

"Well, you found it."

"Oh" said Casey. "It's just that I was expecting something a little....bigger."

"Yep" said Zeke as if he had heard it before. "Most people are."

Casey looked at his car again. "Do you need gas?" asked Zeke.

"No, I have gas."

Zeke seemed disappointed. "Pity. Haven't had a sale all week." He waved his stick at the pump. "I sometimes forget how that thing works."

"How do you make a living?" asked Casey.

Zeke shrugged. "Economics are little different out here. I get by." He raised a bottle to his lips, then seemed to make a decision. "Care for a beer?"

Casey cast another look at his car and shrugged. "Why not? It's not like I'm going to be driving anywhere." He strolled over to the porch and took the seat next to Zeke.

"In the bucket" said Zeke and Casey reached in and pulled a bottle out of the cold water.

"Thanks" he said accepting the bottle opener that Zeke offered. "The name's Casey by the way."

"Pleased to meet you" said the man. "I'm Zeke."

Casey looked around. "So......the town."

"What about it?"

"Where's the rest of it?"

Zeke chuckled. "Well this here is the main street. Around that corner there is Miller's store. What I don't sell, he does. And there's folks scattered all over. People here like their space, and there's plenty of it so we don't see much point in living on top of each other."

"Right" said Casey, for want of anything better.

"Where are you from?" asked Zeke.

"New York."

"New York?" said Zeke. "I went to New York once. In '46 it was, when I got out of the army. I went to the theatre."

Casey waited for further information but it didn't arrive. "Right" he said.

Zeke frowned. "Wasn't there a big monkey?"

"A big monkey?"

"In New York. There was a big monkey."

"I don't...." began Casey.

"I'm sure I remember a big monkey. They shot him."

Casey considered this. "Do you mean King Kong?"

"That's the fella. Why'd they go and shoot him?"

"Er...I don't really know, it was...before my time."

"'Course it was, 'course it was. I was a young man myself then."

"Yeah, well..."

"Bob Hope!"

"Excuse me?"

"That's who I saw at the theatre. There was Bob Hope and a woman, well there were lots of women but there was one in particular. Now what was her name?"

"Dorothy Lamour?" said Casey taking a guess based on his knowledge of the 'Road' movies.

"That's right" said Zeke. "Dorothy Lamour. Did you see that show too?"

"No, I missed that one."

"Shame. It was real good. 'Course, we got in for free being in the army. That's what the show was put on for you see? To welcome home the boys from overseas."

"Good idea."

"Yeah. Harry would have liked it."

"Harry?" Casey was having trouble keeping up with this conversation.

"He's still over there right now, in France."

"Really? Did he marry a French girl?"

Zeke looked at him oddly. "Harry died."

"Oh, sorry."

Zeke didn't seem too upset. "Yep. 6th of June 1944. Shot dead before he even got out of the water."

"That's too bad."

"Them's the breaks. I never much cared for the man anyhow."

"Right" said Casey.

They sat in silence for a few moments. Then Zeke spoke up again. "So what brings you to our bustling metropolis Casey?"

"Oh" said Casey, a little startled by the fact that Zeke had asked a question that seemed to be quite lucid. "I just...wanted to get away for a while."

"Away from what?"

"Well, you know, work, city life, that sort of thing."

"It's a woman ain't it?"

"Yes" admitted Casey.

"I can always tell" said Zeke. "I knew it as soon as I saw you. I said to myself, Zeke, that boy over there has woman trouble."

"Well, you were right again."

"'Course I was, 'course I was. So what happened? Did you get her pregnant and her Pa come after you with his shotgun?"

"No, it's not quite like that."

"So what is it?"

Strangely, Casey felt no qualms about telling Zeke all about it. He figured the old man would forget the whole conversation in five minutes anyway.

"She's marrying somebody else" he explained.

"What? And her pregnant with your baby?"

"She's not pregnant."

"I'm sure that's her story."

"Believe me. She's NOT pregnant."

"So what's the problem?"

"She's marrying another man."

"And you don't want her to?"

"No."

Zeke considered. "Why?"

"Because I want her to marry ME."

"Aaah" said Zeke. "I got you now. That is a problem."

"I know."

"Why is she marrying him and not you?"

"Because he asked her."

"And you didn't?"

Casey shook his head. "No."

"Well what's the girl to do Casey? She ain't gonna marry you if you don't ask her to is she?"

"I know, I was.....waiting for the right moment."

"Looks to me like you missed it."

"Thanks."

They were silent again for a moment. "Why is she marrying him?" asked Casey eventually. "Can't she see what a mistake she's making?"

"What's this other fella like?" asked Zeke.

Casey spat out a description. "Handsome, charming, rich, generous."

"Oh" said Zeke, "a real bastard huh?"

"But he's not right for her" insisted Casey.

"I don't know" mused Zeke. "Reckon I'd marry him myself if he asked."

"She doesn't love him."

"She tell you that?"

"No. But I can tell."

"Does she love you?"

"Yes."

"She tell you that?"

"Not as such."

"Oh, but you can tell right?"

"Right."

"So why is she marrying him?"

"Because I didn't ask her. I guess she just got tired of waiting."

Zeke stroked his beard a little. "Do you love her?" he asked.

"Yes" said Casey without hesitation.

"Did you tell her that?"

"Not exactly."

Zeke sighed. "But you do love her?"

"Yes."

"Well then, what are you gonna do about it?"

"What can I do? She's marrying the guy."

"She ain't married him yet has she?"

"No."

"There you are then. You gotta go stop her before she does."

Casey shook his head. "I can't just go and stop their wedding."

"Why not?"

"Because it's.....just not done."

"Ain't it?"

"Not really, no. It would be.....impolite."

"And we wouldn't want to be impolite would we?" snorted Zeke. He leant towards Casey. "But it's now or never son. Once that band of gold is on her finger, you're gonna have a hell of a time trying to get it off."

Casey thought about it. He couldn't, could he? That was just in the movies wasn't it? Real people didn't actually do it. But if he didn't..... "You're right" he said.

"Three times in one day" said Zeke proudly.

"I've got to stop her."

"I'm sure it's for her own good."

Casey leapt off the porch and got into his car. Then he got out again and slowly walked back to Zeke. "Is there a mechanic in town?"

Casey watched as Earl poked around under the hood of his car. He wasn't sure how qualified Earl was but he didn't appear to have much choice. Zeke had told him that "young Earl Bishop knows about engines and suchlike" and had called him.

Earl looked up. "Yep" he said, "it's your carburetor."

"What's wrong with it?"

"It's all shot to hell."

"Can you fix it?"

Earl shook his head. "Nope. You're gonna need a new one."

"How long will that take?" asked Casey looking at his watch.

"Couple of hours maybe."

"Ok. Fine."

"If I had the parts."

"You don't have the parts?"

"Nope."

Casey sighed. "Is there another town nearby that stocks them?"

"Well I usually get my spares from Willard's over in Corby."

"Great" said Casey. "How long will it take you to drive to Corby?"

"No point in me driving all the way to Corby" said Earl.

"Why not?"

"They only stock spares for AMERICAN cars" he said pointedly, casting a disapproving glance at Casey's BMW.

"Wonderful!" said Casey throwing his arms up in the air. He turned to Earl. "Isn't there anything you can do?"

Earl scratched his head slowly. "Well, I guess Willard's could order one. Take a couple of days to get here though, even express."

"The woman I love is getting married in..." he checked his watch, "...twenty one hours. I have to be in New York by then." He looked around for inspiration. Then it came to him. "What am I doing?" he asked the world in general. "I can just phone her." Then a thought struck him. "There IS a phone in town right?"

"Sure" said Zeke. "Use the one inside."

"Thanks" said Casey and headed in..

Two minutes later he came back out.

"That was quick" observed Zeke.

"She's not home" said Casey. "She's staying at Natalie's."

"So phone Natalie" suggested Zeke.

"I don't know her number." Casey cursed himself. He had Natalie's number alright. It was in his address book, which was sitting by the phone in his apartment. He tried to call Dan but got no answer. He cursed the inventor of the speed-dial facility which meant that he was now unable to remember any other numbers. "I have to get to New York" he said simply.

"Well this car ain't gonna get you there" said Earl.

"Ok, forget the car. I'll get a plane..." he glanced around at the town, "...or a train. Is there a train station?"

"Not here" said Zeke. "Nearest train station would be in Finian's Brook."

"Finian's Brook?"

"Yep. Folks 'round these parts didn't have a whole lot of imagination when it came to names."

In spite of the desperation of his situation, Casey was intrigued. "So who was this guy Finian?"

"Blowed if I know" said Zeke. "But he sure didn't stick around."

"I know how he felt" muttered Casey. "Ok, how far is it to Finian's Brook?"

"'Bout twenty mile."

"Is there a bus?"

"Sure."

"When's the next one due?"

Zeke considered. "What day is this?"

"Saturday."

"Next bus will be through Tuesday."

Casey refrained from killing him. "Tuesday?"

"Regular as clockwork."

"Ok, skip it. Is there a cab?"

"Earl sometimes drives folks where they want to go."

Casey turned to Earl. "Can you take me to Finian's Brook?"

"Sure" said Earl. "But it'll cost you."

Casey sighed. "How much?"

"Hundred dollars."

"For a twenty mile trip?"

Earl shrugged. "It's a seller's market."

"Told you economics was different out here" said Zeke.

"Alright, alright" said Casey. "You're just lucky I don't have time to walk. A hundred it is."

"Up front" said Earl.

"Do you take checks?"

Earl just shook his head.

"I suppose American Express won't do nicely?"

"I'm afraid I don't have the facilities."

"ATM?"

"Nearest is at Finian's Brook."

"Why am I not surprised. Look, just take me to Finian's Brook and I'll pay you one-fifty when I get to the ATM."

Earl was tempted by this. "I'm not sure" he said.

"Two hundred!"

"Deal."

"Here" said Casey handing over two hundred dollars.

"Pleasure doing business with you" said Earl pocketing the cash. "Train station's right over there."

"Thanks" said Casey, getting out of the truck.

"Hey" said Earl with sudden inspiration. "Why take a train? I could drive you to Corby; you could rent a car there. I'm sure they just love American Express in Corby."

"I can't rent a car."

"Why not?"

"Because my license is sitting, along with my address book, by the phone in my hall" said Casey through clenched teeth.

"It just ain't you day is it?"

"Don't I know it."

"I need to get to New York" said Casey to the man at the ticket booth.

"Want to be a star on Broadway do you?"

"Huh?"

"That's why folks usually head for New York. 'I'm gonna be a big star' they say. Then they come back a few months later with their tails between their legs."

"I don't want to be a star on Broadway."

"Well if it's movies you want then Los Angeles is your best bet."

Casey shook his head. "Look, I just want to go to New York, I live there."

"Really?" said the man. "And you came here?"

"Not by choice. Now can you just give me a ticket."

"You won't get a direct run from here. You'll have to change at Coopersville, then again at Montgomery."

"Fine" said Casey and bought the ticket. "When's the next train out?" he asked.

The man looked at the clock. "Noon."

"But it's past noon now."

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Why didn't you tell me?"

"You never asked."

"But tomorrow's no good. I have to be there in twenty hours."

"You city folks are always in a rush."

Casey wanted to strangle the man but he needed information. "Could you just tell me the quickest way to get to New York, by whatever means."

The man thought. "You could rent a car" he suggested.

"By means other than renting a car."

"Well, you could go over to Corby and catch a train from there. There's one leaves in two hours."

"How do I get to Corby?"

"There's a bus."

"What time is the next bus?"

"Little over an hour."

"Ok. And how long will it take to drive to Corby?"

"Little over an hour."

Casey gave the man a hard stare. "So you're saying I'll miss the train."

"Oh yeah." He paused. "You could get a cab" he suggested brightly.

"And where would I find a cab in this town?"

"There's only one cab in town right now on account of Cody Willis breaking his leg. His son Peter drives the other one."

"Fine. Where can I find Peter Willis."

"Peter picked up a fare from here not ten minutes ago. Took a lady over to Corby."

Casey began to bang his head repeatedly on the counter.

"Hey" said the man, "stop that."

Casey looked up and held out his useless train ticket. "Can I have my money back on this?" he asked."

"Sorry" said the man. "No refunds. Says so on the back."

Casey took a deep breath. "I seriously suggest that you reconsider."

The man looked into Casey's eyes. Then he gave him a refund.

Casey had wandered around aimlessly for a few minutes wondering what to do. He had just resolved to start knocking on doors and offering obscene amounts of money to people in exchange for a ride to Corby when he saw a train approaching in the distance. He ran back to the station where the man in the ticket booth was less than happy to see him.

"There's a train coming" said Casey.

"That's right" said the man warily.

"You said the next train was tomorrow."

"The next passenger train is tomorrow. That train coming is a freight train."

"Where does it go?"

"Selma but..."

"Does it stop here?"

"No, just slows down a little so it can pick up the mail as it runs through."

"Fine" said Casey and headed towards the platform.

"Sir, you can't get on that train. It's against regulations."

"Screw the regulations."

"I can't let you get on that train. I'll be fired."

Casey looked at him. "Are you going to stop me?" he said in a tone that suggested it wouldn't be the best move the man could make that day.

The man considered. "No."

As the train slowed, Casey waited for an opportunity to jump on-board. Luckily he could see a car with its door slightly open. As it passed, he ran at it and leapt in, rolling over on the floor as he landed.

"Whhhooooee" said a voice. "That was impressive."

Casey looked up and saw what he had never seen outside of movies and TV shows, a genuine rail-riding hobo. In fact, as he looked around, he saw that there were five of them.

"There was a time when I could do that" said the one who had spoken. He stuck out his hand. "Name's Bob."

Casey wasn't entirely sure he wanted to shake the proffered hand, he didn't know where it had been, but decided that politeness was the best course of action and shook it briefly. "Er, hi" he said. "I'm Casey."

Bob introduced the others as Jim, Duke, Charmer and Digger. Casey nodded hellos but mercifully didn't have to shake any more hands. Charmer appeared to be asleep.

"That's a fine suit" said Jim.

Casey looked down. His suit had been expensive but it had through a lot in the past day and he doubted that even the most dedicated of dry-cleaners would be able to save it.

"It's seen better days" he said.

"Where did you get it?" asked Digger.

"I bought it" said Casey.

"Bought it?" exclaimed Digger. "Where from?"

"Er, Georgio Armani."

"Does he ride the rails too?"

"Nooo. I don't think you quite understand. I'm not a...." He tried to find a polite word but failed. ".....hobo."

The hobo's chuckled. "They all say that at the start" said Bob. "First time out for you is it Casey?"

"No, really" insisted Casey. "I'm just trying to get to New York."

"Whatever you say" said Bob. "Drink?" He held out a bottle of something brown.

"No, thanks" said Casey.

"Keeps out the cold" said Bob.

"I'm fine, really."

"My he's a cute one" said a voice.

Casey turned to see that Charmer had woken up. Like the others Charmer was of indeterminate age and, worse, of indeterminate sex. After a moment Casey decided it was a woman because of the deference shown by the others (they wiped the top of bottle before passing it to her).

"Must be my lucky day" she said.

Casey opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again.

Bob chuckled. "Charmer's taken a shine to you Casey."

"Has she?"

"Yep."

"Er, well...."

"And you have a lot to thank her for."

"I do?"

"Yep. If it wasn't for her that door wouldn't have been open. You see, Charmer has this 'arrangement' with the guard."

Casey dreaded to think what the 'arrangement' could be. If it was what he thought it was then he could only conclude that the guard must be really desperate. Casey didn't consider himself to be someone who was too hung up on physical appearance, but he did prefer the women he dated to have teeth - and to look like women. He thought fast.

"Well" he said. "Then I guess I should show my appreciation."

The snickers of the assembled hobo's were silenced when Casey pulled out his wallet, extracted a twenty, and gave it to Charmer.

"I told you I wasn't a hobo" he said.

Casey leaned back in his seat and smiled as the plane took off. He was going to make it. This flight was going direct to New York. He would be there with hours to spare. On arrival at Selma, he had noticed that there was a small airport so he didn't have to catch a train. For once everything had gone smoothly. He had bought his ticket; the flight was on time. No problemo. He closed his eyes and, as a result, did not notice as a number of passengers stood up.

"Can I have your attention please."

Casey looked up and saw a man, in fact several men, standing towards the front of the plane. They had enough weaponry to make the A-Team think seriously about their choice of career.

"We are the glorious fighters of the PLK and we...." He paused as another man whispered in his ear.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes Wasif" said the man..

"Ok. We are the glorious fighters of the PKF and we have taken control of this plane in the name of our leader, the honourable General Talam Sey." He paused for effect but it was clear that none of the plane's occupants had heard of the General. "We are taking this plane to Beirut where it will remain until our demands are met."

The other man whispered in his ear again.

"Are you sure?"

The man nodded.

"Well, why wasn't I told?"

The man shrugged.

Wasif sighed. "Ok, we are taking this plane to Tehran where it will remain until our demands are met."

Just then another figure emerged from the cockpit bringing with him what appeared to be the pilot. The man nudged the pilot with his gun. "Tell him what you told me."

The pilot looked at Wasif. "We can't go to Beirut."

"Tehran."

The pilot looked surprised. "He said Beirut."

"Well now it is Tehran."

The pilot shrugged. "Whatever. We can't go to Tehran either."

"You dare to defy me?"

"It's not a question of defying" said the pilot. "It's a question of aeronautics. This plane is not equipped for intercontinental travel. And even if it was, we don't have the fuel to get to Tehran."

The terrorists huddled together. Then Wasif asked. "How much fuel do we have?"

"Enough to get to New York."

"Then let us go there" said one of the gunmen.

"No" said Wasif.

The other man whispered something to him.

"I do not care if you have never seen the Statue of Liberty" said Wasif. "We are not going to New York. What is the point in hi-jacking a plane if you force it to go to the place that it was going anyway?"

"Well where else can we go?" asked the other gunman.

The leader looked at the pilot. "Where else can we go?"

The pilot shrugged. "How about Washington? I could take you to Washington."

"Perfect" said the leader. "We will make our demands on the White House lawn."

"I don't think we can land there" said the pilot.

They touched down at a small airfield just outside Washington DC - Wasif insisting on the switch of airfields at the last moment to out-manoeuvre the authorities who he new would be gathered in force at Dulles. Casey checked his watch; time was running out. He raised his hand.

"Yes?" said Wasif.

"Er, I was just wondering how long we're going to be stuck here?"

"Until our demands are met."

"And how long will that take?"

"Who knows. My last siege went on for six weeks. Tariq over there had one that lasted four months." Casey looked over at Tariq, who waved. Then he stood up and marched over to Wasif. "I can't wait that long" he said as the rest of the passengers dived for cover.

"Sit down" commanded Wasif.

Casey shook his head. "I have more important things to do."

"Sit down or else."

"Or else what?"

The leader looked puzzled for a moment. Then he looked down at the gun in his hands. "Or else I will shoot you."

"Good threat" admitted Casey. "But you have to understand, I have something really important to do."

"Nothing is more important that the aims of the PLK."

"PKF" said the other gunman.

"That is what I said. Nothing is more important than the aims of the PKF."

"Well who are the PKF anyway?" asked Casey. "I've never even heard of you. What does PKF stand for?"

There was a brief whispered discussion between Wasif and two of his followers.

"We are not going to tell you" he said.

"You don't know do you?"

"Of course we know. It is just....difficult to translate into English."

"I don't think you know."

"It stands for 'The Liberation of the People of the Fatherland Army'."

"You just made that up."

"I did not."

"You did."

Wasif pointed his gun at Casey. "I did not."

"You did not" agreed Casey. "But I still need to get off this plane."

"Why?"

"Because I have to stop a wedding."

Wasif was interested. "Why? Is your sister to marry the son of a dog?"

"No, it's not my sister; it's my girlfriend."

"Your girlfriend is to marry the son of a dog?"

"Er, sort of."

"I understand. And you must kill her to save your honour."

"Noooo, I just want to stop her marrying the other guy."

"That is simple."

"Is it?"

"Yes. You must cut off the hand that would bear the ring."

"No!"

"Then you must cut off HIS hand. Or better yet, his genitals. Then he would be unable to consummate the marriage."

"Tempting as it is, that would be illegal in this country."

Wasif looked mildly offended. "It would be illegal in my country too. We are not barbarians you know."

"Noooo" said Casey, "just terrorists."

"We are not terrorists."

"You look like terrorists."

Wasif shook his head. "You do not understand." He waved his gun at Casey, who wished he wouldn't. "THIS is politics."

"Politics with a gun?"

Wasif shrugged. "You think maybe we should go and plead our case at the United Nations?"

"Well, yeah. It has to be there for some reason and I guess this is it."

"And they would listen?"

Casey considered. "They might.....maybe....perhaps."

"Hah! Not very likely."

"Well what IS your case?" asked Casey. "Why are you doing this?"

Wasif looked puzzled. "I can't remember" he said.

"You can't remember?"

"It does not matter" said Wasif dismissively. "Our leader, the honourable General Talam Sey will remember."

"Ok, but until he does, do you mind if I get off the plane?"

"You wish me to release you in order that you can stop your girlfriend marrying the son of a dog?"

"Yes."

"And what will you do if you succeed?"

"Marry her myself."

"Hah! Excellent revenge on both parties."

Casey wasn't sure that Wasif understood. "I love her" he explained.

"You love her?"

"Yes."

"I was in love once" said Wasif reflectively. "Naseem. A woman of great beauty, elegance and charm."

"What happened?" asked Casey.

"She was killed when she led a raid on a government military base."

"That's too bad."

Wasif shrugged. "The base was destroyed. She died happy."

"Well that's good" said Casey. "But I don't want to lose Dana the way you lost Naseem."

"Your woman is going to attack a government base?"

"No, I didn't mean in exactly the same way. I just meant lose her as in, not have her any more."

Wasif nodded. "Tell me something my friend. If you love this Dana so much, why have you not courted her before? You are leaving it a little late if I may say so."

"I have er, courted her. For years. Things just never seemed to quite work out."

"That much is apparent."

"But it's only now that I've realised that I can't live without her."

Wasif was impressed. "So you will take your own life if she marries another?"

"Er....well, I hadn't really...."

"This is powerful love indeed my friend. Even the PLK...." Whisper. "....PKF should not stand in the way of such love." He clasped Casey on the shoulders. "Very well my friend. You may go and claim your love."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"Oh, great. Thanks." Casey made his way slowly to the door expecting at any moment to get shot. Tariq opened the door with a smile "Good luck my friend" called Wasif as Casey exited.

"And you" he replied before reflecting that maybe he shouldn't be wishing them luck.

Once out of the plane he began to sprint across the runway to the terminal. Then he noticed a lot of vehicles heading towards him that looked like they meant business.

"Stay where you are" called a voice on a bullhorn.

Casey stayed where he was.

"Lay down on the ground with your hands behind your head."

Casey did as instructed. A few seconds later he was surrounded by an assortment of police, FBI and army personnel. They had the kind of weaponry that Wasif would give his right arm for - or at least somebody else's right arm. Casey was hauled roughly to his feet, cuffed, and dragged away to a vehicle.

Once inside he tried to explain to the soldier beside him. "Look, I'm an American. I'm not one of the terrorists."

"That is not my decision to make Sir" said the soldier blankly.

"It's not a question of deciding, it's a fact. I'm an American."

"That may be Sir. But I have my orders."

"And what are your orders?"

"To capture the terrorist scum who have infiltrated our great nation and to bring them to my commanding officer for interrogation. Sir."

"But I'm not a terrorist."

"That is not my decision to make Sir."

Casey was taken to a room where he was searched and, thankfully, un-cuffed. After a heated debate between the commanders of the police, army and FBI over who had jurisdiction, he was questioned.

"Ok Abdullah" said a man who had identified himself as Agent Cole. "Care to tell us why you hi-jacked that plane?"

Casey decided that he had felt safer with the terrorists. "I'm an American" he said simply.

"Can you prove that?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Go on then."

"I have credit cards in my wallet. Which you took from me."

The man nodded. "I've seen them. You could have stolen them."

"I could also have applied for them in the usual manner having been tempted by their incredibly low introductory rates of interest."

"Don't get smart with me Abdullah."

"Well what do you want me to do? Stand up and sing The Star Spangled Banner?"

Agent Cole looked like he was considering it. Then he decided on another tack. "Who scored the most touchdowns in the NFL last season?"

Casey told him. They he told him the name of the leading scorer from each and every team. "Satisfied?" he said when he had finished.

"A good spy would have learned all that" said Agent Cole.

"Spy? I thought I was a terrorist?"

"So you admit it now?"

"No. I am not a terrorist, OR a spy."

"That's your story Abdullah."

"Stop calling me Abdullah. My name is Casey McCall."

"That's what you say."

There was a cough from one of the soldiers lining the room, the soldier who had sat beside Casey in the car. "Er, Sir?" he said.

"What is it?" asked Agent Cole.

"I have reason to believe Sir that this man is in fact who he says he is Sir."

"What reason?"

"I have seen him on TV Sir."

Casey looked at the soldier. "If you knew who I was why didn't you say so before?"

"That was not my decision to make Sir."

Agent Cole still wasn't totally convinced. "Are you sure soldier?"

"Yes Sir. Never miss the show Sir."

"Well then I guess...."

The door burst open and another soldier entered the room. "What is it soldier" barked the army commander.

"Sir, the passengers are all getting off the plane Sir."

"What about the terrorists? Are they still on the plane."

"The whereabouts of the hostiles have not yet been determined Sir."

"You mean you've lost them" said Casey.

The army commander gave Casey a hard stare. "Secure the area" he shouted to his troops.

"The area is already secured Sir" replied a sergeant. "We did that when we arrived."

"Well, let's get out there" said the commander and the military exited the room, followed by the FBI and police.

Casey wandered along the freeway that ran beside the airport attempting to hitch a ride. He had been left alone in the makeshift interrogation room and, since there was nobody there to stop him, he had decided to leave. There would clearly be no flights from this airport today so he had headed for the freeway in the hope that someone would be driving to New York and would take him along with them. His hopes were raised when a van slowed and stopped beside him.

"Hello my friend!" said Wasif leaning out of the window.

"How did you get away from the airport?" asked Casey.

"By subterfuge and cunning."

"You pretended to be passengers?"

"Yes!"

"And they believed you?"

"They had doubts. But when we threatened them with the Commission for Racial Equality they were convinced we were citizens. Plus we knew who scored the most touchdowns in the NFL last season."

"So where are you going now?" asked Casey.

"We have absolutely no idea. In preparation for this mission we learned many things about baseball and football. Regrettably, we learned nothing about geography."

"Well how about going to New York?" asked Casey speculatively.

"Yes" said Tariq eagerly. "We can go and see the Statue of Liberty."

Wasif shook his head. "Really Tariq. That statue is a symbol of all that is evil in the world. You should not get excited about seeing something that is beloved by the hated infidel Americans." He looked at Casey. "No offence."

"None taken" said Casey.

Tariq was undeterred. "But it is very good. You can go inside and everything."

"Can you go inside?" Wasif asked Casey.

"Er, yeah. There's stairs to the top."

Wasif thought about it for a moment. "Ok" he said. "We go to New York. Tariq, get in the back so our friend can sit in the front."

Casey got in and Wasif handed him a map. "You can be our navigator" he said.

"So, er, what are you guys going to do now?" asked Casey when they had been travelling for a while.

"We are going to see the Statue of Liberty" said Wasif.

"I meant after that. What with the mission not really working out and everything."

"After that, we will buy some T-shirts and go home."

"Will you get into trouble?"

Wasif shrugged. "No. Missions fail. It happens more often than you would think. It is only the successful ones that make the television news. What is that noise?"

"What noi..." began Casey. Then he recognised the distant wail of sirens - a LOT of sirens. Tariq's head appeared between them from the back of the van. "Wasif. We have trouble."

"Hold on to your yashmaks" said Wasif and increased his speed.

"Er, maybe it would be better to give yourselves up" said Casey.

"Never" said Wasif. "The PLK, damn, PKF will not be taken alive."

"I was afraid you might say that" said Casey, buckling his seat-belt.

The van was quite old and no match in speed for the vehicles in pursuit. As the army and police vehicles gained, the rear doors of the van were opened and Wasif's men opened fire.

"Oh God" muttered Casey. "Oh shit" he added, as the pursuers started shooting back.

"I think you had better get off here" said Wasif. "It is not your place to die with the PLK."

"PKF."

"Whatever. You must leave now my friend."

Casey looked around. "How?"

"Jump."

"You're kidding."

"There is no other way."

"I guess not." Casey unbuckled his seat belt, opened the door a little and prepared himself. Wasif steered the van to the side of the road so that Casey could aim for the grass verge.

"Good luck my friend" yelled Wasif.

"And you" said Casey. Then he jumped.

Casey was wandering along the freeway again. He had emerged miraculously unscathed from his leap from a speeding vehicle. He had hit the grass verge and rolled for about twenty yards. The pursuers didn't appear to notice his exit and had all carried on after the terrorists - the sound of gunfire disappearing into the distance. Casey was left hitching again. Eventually a car stopped.

"Where are you heading?" asked the driver.

"New York."

"Me too" said the man. "Jump in."

"Thanks for picking me up" said Casey as they drove off. "I really appreciate it."

"No problem."

"My name's Casey."

"Herb. Pleased to meet you."

And that was that. End of conversation, but Casey wasn't complaining. He checked his watch; he still had time. He settled back in his seat.

After a while he became aware that Herb was giving him some sideways glances. Casey knew the form and waited for the inevitable question. It soon came. "Are you that guy on TV?"

"Yeah. Casey McCall, Sports Night."

"I though I'd seen you somewhere before."

"Do you watch the show?" asked Casey.

"Sure do. Never miss it."

"Great."

"My wife watches it too."

"Really? That's nice. I like women who are interested in sports."

"Well my wife really likes you. She's always saying how nice you look."

"Oh" said Casey, pleased. "Well, be sure and give her my regards."

Herb shook his head. "I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because she left me."

Casey had one of those sinking feelings. "Oh dear."

"For another man."

"That's too bad."

Herb looked at him. "And the bastard looked just like you."

"Oh shit" murmured Casey. "Here we go again."

"You're all the same."

"No, look, you see..."

"Coming 'round with your smart suits and your neat hair. Stealing other guys women."

"Er, look, I'm sorry about your wife....but I didn't .....er...." The car was going faster and faster.

"You make me sick."

"Hey Herb, I know you're upset but maybe you should slow down a little?"

In response Herb just glared at him and went even faster.

"Okaaay. Fast is good, it gets you there quicker. But I'd really appreciate it if you could, sort of, watch the road."

"Why?" asked Herb looking directly at Casey. "Scared?"

"Nooo" said Casey, who was. "It's just that I'd like to get where we're going in one piece."

"That doesn't matter" said Herb, who was still most definitely not watching the road. "Not where we're going."

Casey looked at him. "New York?"

"No" said Herb. "We're going straight to hell." So saying he pressed the accelerator to the floor.

"Shiiiittt!" said Casey and frantically fastened his seat belt.

"She was the only thing I had worth living for" shouted Herb. "Now I'm gonna die like James Dean."

"You'll get over it" shouted Casey in desperation. "Trust me I know, I've been there, I'm divorced and I got over it."

Herb looked at him again but didn't slow down. "You're divorced?"

"Yeah I..."

"Serves you right" he said and renewed his headlong rush down the freeway.

Casey became aware of sirens behind them. "Thank God" he muttered before turning to Herb.

"There are cops behind us" he said. "Why don't you slow down before you get busted?"

"I won't get busted" said Herb and began to weave dangerously through the traffic. He looked behind him and laughed. "Stupid cops ain't gonna catch me."

Casey was looking ahead and saw that the vehicle in front had slowed and they were gaining on it fast. Too fast. "Truuuucckkkk!" he yelled.

Herb looked forward, but too late. They slammed right into the back of it. The impact flipped the car over, causing it to smash through the rear doors of the truck and land upside down inside it. For Casey, everything went black.

When he came to, he was hanging by his seat belt upside down in the car. Or rather he was hanging the right way up but, as the car was upside down, so was he. He glanced beside him, but Herb appeared to have taken the easy route out - via the front windshield.

Casey moved a little and was relieved to find that he appeared to be unhurt.

"Are you alright in there?"

Casey looked and saw it was a cop - presumably one of the ones who had been chasing them.

"I think so" he said. "Could you give me a hand getting out?"

The cop snorted. "After what you just did? You can get yourself out mister."

Eventually Casey managed to extricate himself from the seat belt and clambered out of the car. He found the cop tending to Herb who was lying prone on the floor of the truck.

"How is he?" he asked.

The cop looked up. "I think he'll live. The paramedics are on their way." He stood up and held up some cuffs. "And now if you would be so kind as to place your hands against the side of the truck and spread your legs."

"Oh Christ" said Casey.

Once cuffed, the cop hauled Casey out of the truck where his partner was standing with the shocked but uninjured truck driver. "The driver is in no fit state to talk" explained the cop to his partner, "but this one here might be able to tell us just what they thought they were doing driving 100 miles per hour."

"Look" pleaded Casey, "it had nothing to do with me. I just hitched a ride and the guy went mental on me."

"Hey" said the cop who had been outside the truck, "are you that guy on TV?"

"Yeah" said Casey warily.

"I love your show."

"Really?" said Casey. "Does your wife like it too?"

"No" said the cop. "She hates sports."

"Glad to hear it" said Casey. "Women and sports just don't mix."

The cop grinned. "That's exactly what I say."

"Great minds think alike. Now is there any chance you could take these bracelets off me?"

"Hey man, I'd love to. But we have a crime here."

"But it's like I said" said Casey. "I was hitching a ride and he went berserk."

"How come you were hitching?"

Casey sighed. "It's a long story. But I have to get back to the city in less than an hour."

"Why?"

"Because the woman I love is about to marry someone else and I have to stop her."

The cop smiled. "Well why didn't you say so. That's a mission of mercy. I haven't had one of those in weeks." He walked over and un-cuffed Casey. "Can you handle things here Lou?" he asked his partner.

"Sure."

"Ok." He turned to Casey. "Let's go."

"Go?"

"I'm gonna get you to that church on time."

As they got into the police car Casey looked at his watch. "Do you think we'll make it?" he asked.

"Are you kidding?" said the cop. So saying he flicked a switch and the lights and sirens blazed into life. "You just strap yourself in."

"And do you, Dana ........"

SLAM

All eyes turned to the back of the church to see what the noise was. There stood a figure who was most definitely not dressed for a formal occasion.

"Casey?" said Dana.

"Oh shit" said Natalie.

"Yes!" exclaimed Casey. "I know of a reason why these two should not be..."

"We haven't got to that bit" interrupted the Minister.

"Oh" said Casey, "sorry." He found an empty seat and sat down. "In that case, I'll wait."

THE END


End file.
